Men of Courage II by Lori Foster

beneath it, brought out all his protective instincts. Ham rubbed the back of his neck, trying to relieve his tension. “Liv?”
    She went still, then glanced up. Eyes wide and watchful, and full of some indefinable emotion, she waited.
    “It occurs to me,” Ham said, “that you only have one bedroom.”
    Slowly she came to her feet. A look of expectancy replaced the wariness in her expression. “Yes.”
    Not yet, Ham cautioned himself. If she wanted him physically, it’d help to ease her into an emotional commitment. “I can camp out on the couch.”
    She said nothing to that.
    “But is it all right if I store my stuff in this room? I don’t want to leave it cluttering your foyer.”
    “All right.”
    So enigmatic. Ham crossed his arms over his chest. “You sleep downstairs?”
    “In the only furnished bedroom, yes.”
    Close to the couch. But close enough?
    She said abruptly, “Jack is spooked.” Moving past Ham, she led the dog back toward the stairs. “When I sit with him, he feels better.”
    But rather than follow her, Jack paused at Ham’s side and whined.
    “Come on, Jack,” Liv said, but still the dog hesitated. Ears back, head low, he whined again.
    At least the dog was on his side, Ham decided. “I guess he wants us all together.”
    Liv opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
    Hiding his smile, Ham patted the dog. “Let’s go, boy. The lady is waiting.”
    Jack followed Ham downstairs, then back upstairs again as he stored his things in the spare room. “I should change your name to Shadow,” Ham teased the dog. But when he saw Liv standing at the window, watching the pouring rain, his heart went out to her. She appeared so dejected, so…alone, that he felt guilty having her dog’s attention.
    A loud boom of thunder shook the house, and in a flash, Jack was at her side. Liv’s nurturing nature took over and she spent several minutes calming the dog. Ham absorbed the picture she made, gentle and sweet and patient. He could easily see her with a classroom full of kids, relating, guiding, teaching.
    He could also see her with a baby in her arms— his baby. She would be a phenomenal mother. He imagined the four of them, himself and Liv, Jack and a toddler, settled into the cozy little house in Colorado Springs. She’d be happy there, because he’d make it so.
    He’d only seen the house in Internet ads, but as soon as he’d been approached with the offer to be a permanent professor at the academy, he started weighing the pros and cons.
    God knew he’d miss being squadron commander, but he’d be promoted to colonel. He’d stay on active duty longer, but they’d never have to move away from the Air Force Academy. The two years it’d take for him to get his Ph.D. would be trying, but he’d stay on full pay during that time, and if Liv knew the end result, that they could be the kind of family she wanted…
    Once he convinced Liv, they could check out the house together. She’d enjoy buying new furniture, or planting flowers.
    The doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of their food and releasing Ham from visions of a perfect future. He answered the door while Liv got out dishes and drinks. She knew him well enough that she automatically poured him milk with his dinner.
    Jack curled up beneath the table, determined to stay close but mannered enough not to beg or make a nuisance of himself. The entire setting felt cozy, especially when the lights flickered and then went out. At the dinner hour, it normally wouldn’t have been so dark. But the storm-filled sky, thick with black clouds, lent the sense of midnight.
    Liv stilled with her glass of iced tea near her mouth.
    “Do you have any candles?”
    She swallowed her bite of fried cabbage and nodded. “In the drawer by the sink. Matches are there, too.”
    Ham located a fat scented candle and set it in the middle of the table. Liv watched him as he lit it. Soft illumination danced across her features, and he felt prompted to say, “Does